


Modern Romance

by MissHoshigaki



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 00:26:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3589443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissHoshigaki/pseuds/MissHoshigaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ridiculous situation. Demands are made and a contract is forged. Can Sakura reconcile a betrayal to her village for what she wants most? KisaSaku. Rated M for swearing, stupid jokes, casual violence, and probably sexual content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I. Doctor, Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> *This is the story that is loosely tied in with my other fic, Letters (found on FF.net), somehow. It is probably important to note that I started writing this a long time ago so some of the facts might be off about some of the characters (such as Tobi, which is important later) and I have not kept up with any of the new arcs of the show. Let’s just say this takes place soon after Deidara dies (for the first time). Just roll with it, okay?
> 
> I would also like to apologize in advance for all the stupid jokes. I think I’m really funny, and that’s what matters right?

**Chapter I**

  
Hoshigaki Kisame was having a bad week. A  _very_  bad week. Firstly, he had managed to get a large, very noticeable bleach stain on his favourite black shirt. Secondly, he had torn the hem of his standard Akatsuki cloak while training with the blond explosion artist. Thirdly, said explosion artist, along with Tobi and his partner’s brother, Sasuke, had been erased off the surface of the earth, leaving nothing but a giant crater, two Akatsuki flavoured smudges and a pile of angsty Uchiha ash. The latter of the three being the root of another, larger problem involving his partner, Uchiha Itachi.  


Itachi was never one to show any emotion. In fact, he didn’t talk much either, so it was hard to tell if something bothered him or not. The problem was just that. It seemed, however hard he tried to hide it, Uchiha Itachi missed Sasuke, or he was at least bothered or frustrated he died or perhaps it was Deidara’s or Tobi’s death that troubled him. Whichever it was Kisame could tell this because Itachi kept repainting his nails. This fact was small and insignificant, but Itachi was an Uchiha prodigy. Uchiha prodigies don’t have to repaint their nails nine times in a row and counting. Each brush stroke was usually calculated and executed perfectly, almost elegantly, never leaving excess paint on the sides of his fingers or bumps with the slick purple polish. That evening, however, he was doing a horrible job. It didn’t possess the usual perfection and finesse that nail technicians strive for. Minuscule bumps left on the lustrous surface, paint missing from the sides of some nails and others having small dots and lines left on his pale skin. His cuticles were a mess. He even let a drop slid off the small brush and onto the grey, already stained carpet and the strange thing was he didn’t even seem to notice. Itachi would then, with crimson orbs, inspect his mediocre job. It surprised Kisame when a flicker of emotion fluttered across his handsome features, his normally emotionless mouth turned down at the corners.  The emotion looked vaguely like disappointment, almost border lining sadness. He would then give a disheartened sigh and reach for the bottle of nail polish remover for the umpteenth time in the last hour.

Kisame left his partner to brood in solitude in the small, stale-aired rec room, closing the door as he left. The Uchiha preferred to be alone anyway, and Kisame had finished the last chapter of his book and the smell of nail polish was starting to give him a headache. Besides, he was hungry. He trundled off to the kitchen to see if there was any dango left in the fridge. He also felt sad Deidara and Tobi had passed on, although he didn’t have too much sympathy for Deidara, but he still missed him. He was destined to explode one day or another. After all, his motto was ‘Art is an explosion’, and artists aspire to become part of their art, don’t they? That, at least, was what Kisame thought, although he was not an artistic person himself. Sasori had also become part of his art, and he had departed from this world as well.

Kisame let out a dejected sigh as he shut the fridge door. Someone had already snatched up the last few remaining sticks of dango. He swore they were there that morning and just like that they were gone. ‘Just like what happened to Deidara and Tobi…’ he thought sadly to himself but quickly recovered, realizing it was no time to dwell on lost comrades. He began setting up the coffee machine, the thought of food forgotten.

\-----

  
After Kisame finished drinking a few cups of strong, surprisingly filling coffee, he ventured back to the room where he presumed Itachi was still  compulsively  painting and repainting his nails to retrieve his book that he had carelessly left behind. Kisame opened the door to the Akatsuki make-shift living room quietly, not to disturb the already delicate albeit dangerous Uchiha. The acrid smell of nail polish and nail polish remover wafted into the hall, Kisame crinkled his nose.  


 

Itachi was still working at painting his nails, apparently not satisfied with the final product yet. He had migrated from the chair to the floor, which in hindsight should have been Kisame's first clue something was majorly wrong. Before he even spoke, Kisame could tell there was something off about his partner.

“Hey, Kisame...” Itachi slurred. He stood up clumsily, knocking over the small bottle of nail polish letting its contents spill out on to the carpet without a second thought, which only intensified the already robust perfume of chemicals. He wobbled where he stood, then proceeded to lurch towards his partner, almost tripping over the leg of the coffee table. He had never, in all the years he had known him, seen the Uchiha be anything but graceful. What seemed like an eternity passed before Kisame responded.

“Are you okay, Itachi-san?” he questioned, taking a step forward to place a hand on the shoulder of his partner who was teetering back and forth. The answer was obviously 'no.'

“Yes.” Glazed ruby eyes jumping around the room but never really focusing on anything. Did his pupils seem huge or was that just because of the less than adequate lighting?

“Itachi-san,” Kisame asked slowly, now holding on to both of Itachi’s shoulders trying to steady him. “Have you been drinking?” Itachi didn't drink, not that he knew of anyway, but he was certainly acting like he was on the tail end of a bender. If he wasn't drunk, there was definitely something wrong with him. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach when he couldn't see any sign of a glass or even a bottle anywhere in sight.

“Of course not,” Itachi mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbed the side of his face.What little colour that was usually in his face was draining fast and he seemed like he might collapse at any second. "I don't feel... well." He didn't look well either. It was time to make an executive decision. If things started going south he knew he wasn't equipped to deal with it. He had zero medical training beyond bandaging and this didn't seem like a bandage kind of problem.  


  
“Itachi-san,” Kisame said in his deep, strong voice. Itachi cracked open his eyes and squinted at him, still rubbing his head.  His crimson eye’s flickered onyx briefly, like someone turning a light off and on quickly. Not good.  “You’re coming with me. We need to go see Pein,” Kisame stated calmly and firmly. This caught his attention and a switch was flipped.  


  
Itachi seemed to regain some strength, pushed him away with surprising force and stumbled back a few feet. He narrowed his eyes. "No." One hand ghosted over where his weapons pouch would have been if they had not left their gear in the training room. Kisame was thankful for that. "I'm not going." The muscles of his forearms twitched as he balled his fists, knuckles white from the pressure.  


"You need help," Kisame held up his hands in front of him, reassuring him he was no threat and kept an even, calm tone. "Pein can have a medic look at you."

"No," Itachi repeated but with a weaker voice, taking an awkward step back. "I don't care. Just leave me alone." Another step back, coming dangerously close to tripping over the coffee table again. He clenched his eyes closed again and clutched his head. "Leave me alone..." It seemed like he was in real pain now.

"Itachi..." Kisame almost pleaded. "Either you come with me now or I wait until you pass out." Itachi didn't respond right away, and Kisame was getting ready to rush at him to take him by surprise, but then he nodded. He shuffled back towards him, all the coiled tension left his body. Kisame let out a breath; at least he was cooperating now, but who knew for how long.

“Let’s go,” The shark man said quickly. Gently, he placed his large blue hand on Itachi’s back to coax him in the right direction. The Uchiha seemed docile now and Kisame didn’t want to waste any time in case he swung back around to violent.

Just before they stepped out of the threshold of the living room Itachi’s eyes faded to black as he plummeted forward. For the hundredth time that day Kisame gave a forlorn sigh, picked up his wasted partner and threw him over his broad shoulder.

 

\-----

  
This week had taken a nose dive. It was bad enough before but this was just ridiculous. How was he supposed to explain this to Leader-sama? He didn’t even know what happened to him. He seemed fine when he left him. Maybe a little strange, but there seemed to be no hints at all from what he could tell.  What if he didn’t faint but dropped in to a death-like coma? At least he was still breathing, and from what little medical knowledge he possessed he knew that was a good sign.  


Kisame hurried across the large complex, taking the fastest way he knew to Peins' office. He didn't spend a great deal of time in the Ame base, but he was fairly confident he was going the right way. He had to stop a few times to make sure Itachi was still breathing and balance him on his shoulder again. Itachi groaned miserably with every jostle, especially going down stairs when his shoulder bounced into his stomach. Carrying Samehada was so much easier than a live person. He had left his great sword in his room while he and Itachi were getting reacquainted with the base that morning, not expecting to be away for more than a few hours. Samehada was not going to be happy with him.

 

Finally, after getting only a little lost, he reached Pein's office. He knocked hastily and waited for the muffled 'come in' before he entered.

 

“What is it, Kisame-san?” asked Pein from behind his cluttered desk, not bothering to look up. He looked like he was doing paperwork, or at least trying to. He tapped the end of his pen on his wooded desk impatiently, his head cupped in the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on the edge of his desk staring down at a few sheets of paper. Between the organization and looking after Ame's affairs, he had more than enough to deal with. Kisame advanced toward the desk, Uchiha perched atop his broad shoulder. Pein stopped tapping his pen. “Well?” he demanded. Being the leader of an evil organization isn’t all fun and games. No. There are finances and paper work and recruiting and threatening and god know what else. And better yet he haD to deal with silly little problems that popped up everywhere...

“Well, Leader-sama, it seems there is a... situation…” Kisame started searching for the words to explain this predicament.

  
“Just get to the point. I don’t have the time  _or_  the patients to…” Pein decided to look up at this point. He wasn’t expecting  _this_. Did Itachi   _die_? Was he wounded? “What happened, Kisame-san?”  


“There’s something wrong with Itachi-san.” Kisame responded, not knowing how else to put it.

  
“I can see that.  _What_  is wrong with him?”  


“I have no idea. When I found him he seemed delirious, almost like he was drunk, and then he sort of just... passed out. He might have taken something, but I couldn't get him to tell me." He shuffled his feet. "He's still breathing, at least.”

“I was afraid something like this would happen. Fortunately, he couldn't have better timing,” Pein said as he stood up. Kisame absently wondered what on earth he could mean by that. He's been expecting this? He performed a series of hand seals, a staticy sound followed and then a holographic image of Konan appeared. “Konan, fetch the Kunoichi.” The blue haired woman nodded, disappearing as silently as she came.

“Kunoichi?” Kisame questioned.

“Yes. I sent Konan to ‘escort’ the new medic to our headquarters. She was just about to fill her in on her new role here,” Pein explained, sitting back down in his big chair. This sounded vaguely familiar to Kisame. Pein probably mentioned it at one of his long, boring meetings. He crossed his arms, leaned back in to his chair and closed his eyes. “We have been in need of a medic-nin since we lost Kakuzu…”

With that Kisame stood in an uncomfortable silence, adjusting the weight of the Uchiha on his shoulder. The mention of a fallen comrade left no gap for conversation, even if that comrade was a money-grubbing bastard whom nobody really liked.

  
The silence was broken, well more like  _shattered_ , when from down the hall came an awful screeching and thumping, and it was coming closer. Peins eyes snapped back open. Both members looked at the door as it was kicked open violently, probably denting the wall with the force and practically ripping the hinges off the door frame. A fuming Konan stood there with a mess of pink and red thrashing around under her arm. Konan walked briskly up to Pein’s desk and promptly dropped the person in front of it and slammed the door on her way out. The thrashing, yelling thing was tied up and gagged, the obvious profanities came out as stifled screams through the cloth. Had he seen this woman before? ‘H’ something? He was almost sure it had something to do with some kind of flower.  


  
“This,” Pein said, standing beside the woman that had stopped her struggling and had become quiet, doing her best to sit up. Konan, when provoked, could tie  _very_  tight knots. “Is Haruno Sakura. Medic-nin of Konoha. Prized student of Tsunade, whom Haruno-san has surpassed. Please put Uchiha-san down and Haruno-san will assess.” Pein crouched down and untied her gag. Of course when it was removed, Sakura wasn’t going to be quiet.  


  
“What the hell are you talking about!?” Sakura bellowed in his face. “I’m not doing anything for… wait. Did you say Uchiha?” Sakura looked up at the towering shark man peering down at her with the limp figure lying across his cloak clad shoulder, then back at the orange haired man kneeling beside her who looked thoroughly unamused. She hadn’t realized exactly  _who_  she was dealing with. Until now. Her mouth suddenly felt dry.  


“I don’t believe you understand your position, Haruno-san,” His voice underlined with a threat. “You don’t have a choice.” He didn't have to say more for her to fill In the blanks. Sakura silently weighted her options: help or die, probably tortured for information. ‘Hard choice…’

“Fine,” Sakura grumbled. If she did this for them would they let her go? Not likely. Maybe she could at least gather some intel on them. Maybe even find possible leads on Sasukes whereabouts. All was not lost. “What do you want me to do anyways? Is he dead? Cuz’ I can’t do anything about that...”

“No.” Pein said, cutting the coarse rope that bound her wrists and ankles with a kunai and rose to his feet. Sakura stood up as gracefully as she could, glaring at Pein. He grimaced. “He seems to be...  _intoxicated_  with something.”

  
“Seriously?” Sakura muttered quietly under her breath, rubbing her wrists where the rope chafed her skin. When no one answered her she looked up at Kisame who stood there like a tree, watching her. She tapped her foot impatiently, wanting to get this betrayal over with.  “Just put him on the ground already and let me work.” Kisame stayed where he was for a few moments for pure intimidation, then set Itachi down as instructed. Sakura knelt beside the Uchiha, going into full medic mode, tying her short pink hair into a pony tail. First, she made sure he was breathing. Check. Pulse? Check. She then looked at his eyes, checking for the obvious blood shot look. “To your knowledge, has Uchiha-san been acting differently lately?” Sakura inquired, rolling up his sleeve to check the crook of his arm for bruising or needle marks.  


“No.” Kisame said flatly.

“Ok. Has he been taking any illegal substances or prescription medication?” After saying that she wondered if these people would even bother with prescriptions. Where would they get them in the first place?

“No.”

“Alcohol?”

“No.”

“Cough medicine?” she supplied in a dead-pan. He was being supremely unhelpful. Kisame just stared at her now. He didn’t appreciate her grilling him about his partner. How should he know any of this? Couldn't she just do that chakra thing medics were always doing?

“What kind of symptoms was he having?" No answer. "Drowsiness, vomiting, confusion or impaired judgement?” Sakura listed as she counted them off on her fingers. She had no clue what happened and the shark man wasn’t helping. She didn’t particularly want to probe Itachi with her chakra until it was completely necessary, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of unnecessarily touching the former Konoha-nin. “Do any of those sound familiar?”

“No.”

“Hmm… What was he doing last?”

“Painting his nails…” Kisame answered reluctantly, crossing his arms. How could you be a fearsome, deadly organization when you paint your nails? Sakura leaned back on her heels with a puzzled expression on her face, tapping her chin. In any other moment it would have been hilarious, but she was too distracted to pick up on the comedy of the situation.

‘How am I going to get out of this…?’ The rosette thought as she stood up. It was obviously a long-shot but it was her only lead. “Kisame-san,” She asked with a mock-sweet smile and batting her eyelashes; it was worth a shot to see if she could use her seduction tactics on him. “Can you get the nail polish for me,  _please_?” There were more pressing matters at hand than Itachi’s mystery ailment; she needed to focus on any opportunity to get out of this mess. At least this would buy her some time to think of a plan. From the look on his face, seduction seemed to be a no-go.

Kisame gave her an incredulous look and then glanced at his leader. She was ordering him around? “Go. Now.” Pein commanded, leaving no room for argument. Sending a steely look at the kunoichi, he left the room and wondered when he became an errand boy for a hostage.

  
Sakura, now alone with the infamous Akatsuki leader and an unconscious Uchiha, was starting to sweat. ‘This is hopeless,’ she scowled to herself. Sakura had become a formidable kunoichi in recent years, with superior chakra control and excellent taijutsu, but she was in the heart of the Akatsuki secret base. She had no idea how big the compound was, the layout, or how many lethal missing-nins were lurking around. Even disregarding any of the other members, there was no way she could defeat both Pein  _and_  Kisame two on one. In normal circumstances one would be trouble enough; this was not a situation she could fight her way out of. She would have to bide her time until there was an opportunity to escape.  


Now that he was gone she kind of hoped that Kisame would get back soon with the nail polish. Even if she couldn't seduce him into letting her go, he seemed like he was at his wits end so she could use that to her advantage; goad him into making some kind of mistake so she could make a break for it. She didn’t know much about him, other than what she skimmed in the bingo book, but at the moment that seemed like her best bet.

Sakura decided to at least look busy and crouched back down to pretended to take the Uchiha’s pulse, musing on how satisfying it would be to jam a pencil into his stupid eye. She glanced at his plalad face and concluded it would not be as satisfying considering he held a close resemblance to his brother. ‘Damn those Uchiha’s and their undeniable good looks...’

\-----

  
Meanwhile Kisame was walking to the Akatsuki’s living room, wondering why  _he_  had to fetch the nail polish. When did she get the authority to order  _him_  around like that?  _She_  was the hostage, wasn’t she?  


  
He reached the living room, the small bottle still lying on its side, the purple polish spilt out on the carpet. Picking it up the best he could without getting  _too_  much paint on his blue fingers and inspected the small bottle. The inside was coated with a thin layer of semi-dried on polish and a small puddle of the now gloppy liquid dripping down the sides. He supposed that was enough and picked up the small brush that was so carelessly dropped on the floor, screwing it back on the top. It really did reek of nail polish in that small, unventilated room. He decided to hurry back, not because he was worried about it or anything.  


\-----

  
For the second time today he entered Pein’s office, but this time without the burden of an intoxicated Uchiha on his shoulders. The pink-haired medic was currently kneeling next to Itachi staring blankly at his wrist while she took his pulse. As soon as he came through the door she snatched her hand away from the Sharingan wielder as if he had burned her and jumped to her feet gracefully. And then she just stood there. She just stood there and put her hand out, waiting for  _him_  to bring the bottle to  _her_. He had already gone all the way there and back, and she couldn't walk a two feet to meet him? He was not going to fall for her power play because, damnit!, who was the captive here? She was obviously trying to assert some sort of dominance over him. Kisame deliberately stopped a few feet away from her and held the bottle up, giving her a look that he hoped conveyed that he was the one in charge.  


“The nail polish?” she challenged, curling her fingers in an impatient come-hither motion and placing the other hand on her hip. He was steadfast, she arced a delicate eyebrow.

“Why don’t you come get it, kunoichi?” He shot gruffly, waving it in front of her. She rolled her eyes, he grit his teeth.

“Really? Just bring it here.” She said it as if he was the one being difficult. But he was determined to win. Honestly, who did she think she was? He didn’t get this far to be bossed around by a little Konoha medic-nin.

Pein observed the two from his desk, neither of them giving an inch of this pathetic contest for control. If he had realized before creating this organization that he would have to deal with this sort of situation he would have thought more about a solo world domination career. His patience wearing thin, he snapped to Sakura, “What are you waiting for Haruno-san? Go. Get. It.” With the tone of his voice, all of her bravado melted away and she quickly went to retrieve the aforementioned polish.

Kisame smirked, Sakura glowered.

Sullenly, she inspected the small container. It seemed normal enough, if purple nail polish was normal for criminals. ‘Each to their own, I guess,’ she considered. She unscrewed the lid and almost gagged at the smell. “Urgh, what kind of nail polish is this?!” She coughed, screwing the lid back on and set it down on the floor next to the still unconscious man. It smelt like something far too toxic to put anywhere close to human skin. She checked her hands for contamination. “Where did he get it? That can’t be healthy.”

Kisame cleared his throat, “I believe Kakuzu bought it... in bulk... a few years ago.” He couldn’t believe it, Uchiha Itachi, done in by his own nail polish. Pein just closed his eyes and shook his head, thoroughly unimpressed by the situation.

Sakura snickered as she knelt down again, deciding it was time to take a closer look at her patient. She rubbed her hands together and gently placed them on either side of his head. She needed to check if there was any dangerous levels of toxins in his bloodstream that might have seeped in through his nail beds, but she had a hunch that wasn't it. After a brief check, his blood seemed normal enough and none of his organs showed any overt signs of being poisoned.

“It's just fume inhalation,” she stated finally, finally taking her hands off the Uchiha. “How long was he painting his nails for anyway? Don’t you guys have anything better to do?” She sounded way too satisfied by this, aggravating both missing-nins. The medic nin crossed her arms, and gave Kisame a mocking look, still trying to get a rise out of him.  


 

            Pein scowled, causing Sakura to rein in her glee, but only a bit. "Are you absolutely positive that is what happened?"

 

            "Other than being unconscious, he's perfectly fine," she answered, resisted the strong urge to roll her eyes, "But I would take the polish off his nails sooner rather than later, just to be safe."

            “Will he have any lasting effects and what do you need to fix him.” He could feel the nagging pain of a headache approaching. He made a mental note to get rid of all nail polish from the compound. Konan, who insisted that it be part of their dress code, would not be pleased.

            “Oh, just let him sleep it off in a well ventilated room and give him plenty of fluids when he wakes up. He'll probably have one wicked hangover.” She turned to face the leader of the Akatsuki with a cocky smirk, toeing a dangerous line. “Is that all?”

            Slowly, the leader opened his eyes and met her confidant sea-green eyes with his purple-grey Rinnengan, maintaining uncomfortable eye contact as he stood. Sakura refused to back down or shrink away as he approached, keeping her back ramrod straight, eyes unblinking, chin lifted. This was no time to show weakness, even if she was just putting on an act. Pein finally came to a hault in front of the medic and towered over her, but Sakura still did not waver. “That will be all.” Approval flashed across his face as he turned toward his desk again, impressed by her fortitude. “For today. Kisame-san, escort Haruno-san down to the medic lab. Konan should be there ready to acquaint her to her new surroundings.”

            “What about Itachi-san?” the shark man fished, trying to find a way out of escort duty, not wanting to spend more time with the vexing kunoichi then he had to. He’d rather deal with the inebriated Uchiha than Sakura. She was sure to strain his already haggard nerves with whatever mind game she was playing. He didn’t like mind games. All he wanted to do was go back to his room and read a nice, boring book and try to forget about today. In fact, he wouldn’t mind forgetting the whole week.

Pein glanced at Itachi, who was lieing forgotten on the floor, curled up on his side sleeping off the effects of the near toxic fumes. “I’ll make arrangements.” He then handed Kisame the rope, indicating that he should bind Sakura’s wrists again. She frowned at this, but decided that complying would be easier than a dislocated shoulder or two. Kisame tied her hands behind her back with an extra tight knot, much to her chagrin, and pushed her towards the door.


	2. II. Traitor, Traitor

**Chapter II**

 

"So what made him huff paint?" Sakura probed, very aware that it was the last thing Kisame wanted to talk about. "Did the guilt of being a murderous traitor finally get to him or is he always like this?"

Kisame did his best to ignore her, giving her a sharp shove in the back to keep her marching forward. 'Don't give in, don't give in...' he chanted to himself, 'if you say something, she wins.'

"Come on! I won't tell anyone that he finally cracked," she implored, "I'm his medical practitioner now, I should know these things." She looked back at him with wide green eyes, chiding him like he was a small child who had done something wrong. 'Fuck it,' he thought. He vaguely remembered that she was part of Sasuke's genin team, so maybe the news of his demise would get her to shut up for a bit.

"His brother died," he casually divulged. 'Suck on that!'

She immediately became alarmingly quiet.

"What?" Her voice was small. He almost felt bad; she actually sounded quite shocked. He continued anyway.

"Well, more like blew up. You remember Deidara, right? The explosion artist? I believe you met him while fighting Sasori," he prodded her forward again as she began to slow. "Anyway, long story short their battle ended with a bang. Itachi-san was only upset because he didn't get to finish him o—"

"Shut up." She interrupted, stopping mid-stride, still facing forwards. For a small woman she was immovable when she wanted to be. He tried to push her forward again but she dug in her heels. "I don't believe you. He can't be dead."

"Look, kunoichi, why would I lie to you? Come on, Konan's waiting." Kisame put a large blue hand on her right shoulder, giving her a stronger shove. Sakura evaded, spinning towards him and kicked him square in the abdomen. Fuelled by grief and anger she pushed him back a few feet even without chakra enhancement. Not expecting this, Kisame grunted loudly and doubled over. In a split second she was sprinting down the hall, disappearing down another corridor. The shark man clutched his stomach and groaned, regretting giving in to her goading. She wouldn't get too far; their hide out was an underground maze of a bunker, many of the doors locked and armed with chakra sensors. Still, he bolted after her.

\----

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She wasn't the one who was supposed to lose control. Now she was running directionless in this labyrinth of locked doors, hands bound uselessly behind her back with chakra resistant rope and nothing to cut herself loose with. As soon as she started running she knew there was only one painful ending to this escape attempt, but she was swept up in a flurry of emotion when he said...

'It can't be.' After all this time, all the effort to find him and bring him back; to hear he went off and died before she could save him... it was too much. As soon as he said it her wait-and-see strategy crumbled and she reverted back to a smash-through-what's-in-the-way tactic. So much for waiting for the ideal moment. After this stunt it was going to be a lot harder to get him to lower his guard.

It could only get worse the longer she drew this out. That blue bastard was probably none too happy at the moment after the swift kick to the gut and the quick getaway. She imagined he was charging after her like a berserker by now, seeing red and tearing through the hallway. She slowed her pace to a jog, then to a walk, and finally stopped all together. Resigning herself to her fate, she moved slowly to one side of the hall and awkwardly slid down the wall, sitting crossed legged on the cold concrete. Better to surrender than risk injury, at least for the moment.

Now that she had stopped moving she could feel the hot tears streaming down her face and her body trembled. Her breath came out ragged, either from sprinting or crying or both. Helpless sounds of despair escaped her mouth. She tried to choke back the tears only to fail miserably.

\----

Kisame jogged down the twisting halls, starting to feel guilty. Despite what everyone would like to think, he didn't enjoy being cruel for cruelty's sake. Yes, he loved a good physical fight and his fighting style could be considered cruel, but he was not one to revel in psychological torture. In a good brawl, his opponent could fight back, although they would ultimately lose, but it was at least close to fair. What he did had no purpose, and left him feeling ashamed of his lack of self control.

'She forced my hand...' But even that felt like a hollow excuse, and did nothing to quell his dismay. It had been a long time since he felt genuinely bad about something he had done. He wasn't going to outright apologise, but he considered going easier on her. For now, anyway. Finally, after a few minutes of tracking her, he could feel her chakra up ahead and it appeared as if she had stopped running.

The closer he got the more he dreaded finding her. He could hear sniffling and the obvious sounds of someone desperately trying not to cry. He considered looping around the halls to give her more time to collect herself, but decided to git his teeth and bare with it; this was his fault, after all. He could see her now, sitting on the ground pathetically, silently weeping with the occasional loud sniffle. He cleared his throat.

"Come on, Haruno-san, up you get." He said awkwardly, approaching her with caution, lest she decide to kick him again. He wouldn't admit it at that moment, but she certainly did pack a punch and one day he wouldn't mind a fair fight, but today was not that day. Without saying a word, she stiffly got to her feet, keeping her head down to shield her face and waited for directions. He frowned, realizing he much preferred the spunky Sakura to the quiet, downtrodden one. "This way." He said solemnly, indicating that she should walk in front of him again and she obeyed meekly.

They went the rest of the way in silence. Guilt still weighed on Kisame's mind. He kept almost saying something, anything, to make her stop crying, but everything he thought of sounded like an apology. Everything else would probably make her cry harder.

Sakura's tears eventually stopped, but her nose was still dribbling embarrassingly. She needed a tissue, a hot shower and some time to be by herself after that bombshell. She doubted that she was going to have much freedom now though, and the reality of her capture was just sinking in. The medic nin was almost sure that she had been captured somewhere between 12 and 24 hours ago, but the details of said capture were still sketchy. At the moment the time between being in Konoha and waking up in this compound was just a black smudge in her memory. But regardless of when and how she got there, the most important thing to concentrate on was forming a mental map of this underground maze if she wanted any hope of finding her way out during her imminent escape.

'Alright, left in the hallway with the black scorch marks... left again where the ceiling is leaking... down the stairs with the broken banister...' She committed to memory as best she could any small detail that could help her retrace her steps, but it was futile. All of the corridors looked identical; no doors had any markings to indicate what they were used for, just endless grey walls and grey concrete floors. The compound was eerily quiet, and Sakura was beginning to wonder if there was anyone else here besides her and the four Akatsuki members.

Kisame kept prodding her forwards every so often, although far more gently than before, steering her to the right or left, up a flight of stairs and then down two more. She realized that he was probably intentionally taking them on a convoluted path to keep her from getting her bearings.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, they reached the medic lab at the bottom of a long set of stairs. 'Thank god,' Kisame thought, relieved this ordeal was finally coming to an end. Thoughts of a boring book were replaced with the idea of copious amounts of sake to settle his mind, hoping to forget Itachi's crisis and Sakura's newfound somber propensity. "We're here," Kisame's voice disturbed the silence, sounding gruff as he stated the obvious. He extracted a key card from his pants pocket and swiped it in the door, which clicked in response. He opened the door inwards, revealing a fully outfitted state-of-the-art medical lab that would have really gotten Sakura's motor running if she wasn't otherwise distracted. The ex-Kiri-nin motioned impatiently for her to step in.

As she walked over the threshold she suspected she wasn't going to be leaving this room any time soon. In the far back corner of the lab there was a cot set up with a pile of neatly folded black clothes, and next to that was a door leading to what looked like a dismally small bathroom. The room had a familiar scent of bleach and lemons, bringing her mind back to the Konoha hospital that she never thought she would miss so much. Other than that, the room was full to the brim with blinking lights and diagnostic equipment she had only previously dreamed of using. The thrill of shiny new facilities was dampened substantially by the circumstances.

"That took a while," Konan remarked boredly, flipping though a thick manual for one of the high-tech machines, pressing buttons until it sprung to life with a quiet hum, adding to the symphony of beeps and whirs. Her task completed, she eyed Kisame standing in front of the exit, and what looked like a small footprint on the front of his cloak. She arched a blue eyebrow in question, causing Kisame to look down and quickly wipe away the evidence of Sakura's assault. Konan moved her gaze to the pink-haired kunoichi who, other than the signs of crying, looked otherwise unscathed and in fact much more docile than the last time she saw her. She turned back to the machine, verifying that it was in working order, tuning dials and entering the appropriate equations to calibrate it to the proper setting. "You can go now; I'll explain her role here."

Kisame sent Sakura a sidelong glance, wondering if he had in fact broken her. She hadn't said a word since he found her sitting in the hall and now she was just standing there silently. He wasn't sure what he was feeling; was it pity, guilt or concern? Shaking that out of his mind, he resolved that he should take the opportunity to leave this shit-show and find himself a nice big drink before something else happens to drag him back into the thick of it. He nodded to Konan and hastily made his retreat, quietly closing the door behind him.

Konan continued to fiddle with the machine until the calibration was complete and returned the manual to the desk with the others. Finally she regarded Sakura with concern. When she woke up in the hideout, confused and disoriented, she had been a handful right away, but now she was acting so passively. Konan frowned as she walked towards her, wondering where her will of fire went in the short time that she was out of the lab. "As I was about to say before you left, this lab and all of the equipment is for you to use to heal Uchiha Itachi's Sharingan." She moved behind Sakura and began untying her wrists. Concerned again with the absence of response, she added, "If there's anything else you need, write it down and we will locate it for you." She stuffed the length of rope into her cloak pocket. Konan then walked over to a large filing cabinet beside the desk, taking out two bright yellow folders marked Uchiha and held them out to Sakura. "These are his medical folders. The previous medic-nin made notes on his progression, but I'm afraid he didn't have the same skill level as you do. Familiarize yourself with them tonight and you can start working on it tomorrow." Sakura looked at the proffered folders, but did not take them.

"What makes you think I'm going to help so easily?" The medic nin asked, voice level and strong. "What make you think I'll betray my village to help a traitor and a bunch of criminals?" Sakura finally looked up, eyes bloodshot from crying but full of determination and tenacity. Ah, there was the famed will of fire.

\----

By now, Kisame had found his way to the kitchen and settled into one of the chairs with a big bottle of sake all to himself. The small cup was forgotten about a quarter of a bottle ago, the shark man opting to drink it straight from the jug. He took swigs of the strong liquid every few pages of the new book he had started, which was becoming less and less interesting the more he drank. When he had the chance, which was not often, he enjoyed reading. Despite his brutish appearance he did occasionally like learning new things, especially if it could help improve his fighting style. He mostly read non-fiction, history books or weapon compendiums or even a cookbook or two. One time he had even been caught reading Icha Icha Paradise by Itachi. He tried to be a bit more discreet after that, not that he was into those sort of book or anything.

He had yet to feel the desired soothing effect he hoped for, the day's events proving more difficult to shake than previously thought. Taking another long draft, he decided to leave the book behind and move his one man party outside; imagining the soft sound of rain on metal pipes would be more calming than the hum of artificial florescent lights. Taking his half empty sake bottle with him, he ventured to the upper levels of their hideout, climbing staircase after staircase until he was far above ground level. He opened the window that lead to his favorite alcove indented into the face of the massive metal building, and sat down on the ledge, letting his legs dangle casually over the edge. He sighed in contentment; he didn't like being cooped up inside for so long in one place. He was always much happier while travelling. Besides, traveling meant new opponents to fight. He could never fully enjoy battles in cities that he had to stay in for a while because that meant he had to keep it low-key and where was the fun in that.

His sake all gone, he regretted not bringing a second one up with him. "Probably for the best," he mused out loud, and settled for observing the scenery. A light evening rain was falling over Amegakure, and in the distance he could hear the rumble of thunder.

\----

"We had a feeling that you would be less than inclined to help us," Konan started, "So we have a proposition for you." Once again, she walked over to the desk and retrieved another folder, black this time. She opened it, making sure the correct files were included, and brought it back to Sakura but did not offer it to her. "I assume Kisame-san told you about Uchiha Sasuke's demise, judging by your demeanor. In the last 24 hours we have had reports that imply that is not the case." Sakura's eyes widened, once again not sure if she could believe what she was hearing, but she wanted to. Konan produced a grainy photo from the black folder showing four shinobi, one of which was undoubtedly Sasuke. Sakura took the photo, still unsure if it was true.

"How can I trust you?" Still looking at the photo, she wondered who the other shinobi were. New teammates?

"Do you really have a choice?" Konan asked in a soft voice. It wasn't a question, not really. Satisfied that she had her attention, she handed her the black folder. Sakura accepted the file, quickly opening it to investigate the new information. More photos of Sasuke and his new squad, profiles on each of them, and other documents including passed whereabouts'. This was the most she had heard of him since he had defected from Konoha. The Akatsuki had kept very close tabs on him. "Our proposal is this: if you cooperate and succeed in healing Itachi-san's eyes we will release you with the coordinates of Sasuke's location."

"That's all?" There had to be a catch. There was no way that it would be as simple as that.

"Do not take this lightly, many have failed before you."

"And if I refuse? Or fail?" The blue haired shinobi gave her a pointed look. 'Right, that was a stupid question.' Sakura sighed. "That isn't a very good proposal if I can't refuse it." And yet she was still entertaining the idea. It pained her to think she would even consider betraying her village for Sasuke, and yet here she was.

"This is a very generous offer. Think of it more as motivation to succeed. In the end we both get something out of it." Konan was sceptical when Pein decided on this tactic but she could see the kunoichi's resolve weakening. "What is your answer?"

Sakura looked forlornly at the pictures in her hands. Eyebrows knit, she closed her eyes and sealed her fate. "Yes." They knew her weakness and they were exploiting it. Konan smiled and handed her the yellow folders which Sakura accepted this time.

In the next hour, Konan went over more details and timelines with her, all outlined in a lengthily contract. She answered any questions she had and compiling a list of medical ingredients and other supplies she needed for her work. She also explained the schedule she would be required to keep, what would be considered a breach of their agreement and what the end results would have to be if she wanted the information on Sasuke. Sakura signed the contract grudgingly.

"We expect you will have a treatment plan in three weeks. After that you will have up to a month to complete the healing and any rehabilitation he might need. If you cannot complete it in this time frame, the deal is void." Konan collected the list of supplies and walked to the door.

"Ah, one last things," Konan was about to step out of the lab when she remembered a key detail to the success of this mission. "Under no circumstances can you tell Itachi-san that his brother is alive." This puzzled Sakura, but before she could ask why the door clicked close.

\----

It was getting late and Kisame decided it was time to turn in for the night. Despite the warmth he was feeling from the sake, he was getting chilly from the brisk wind that occasionally directed the rain his way. Ame was not known for its pleasant weather, but Kisame didn't mind the rain. It was an added bonus that the village sat practically on top of a giant lake. What he didn't like was the cold. He was never one to tolerate a chill and absolutely despised going anywhere north. Just thinking about one particularly bad mission in Shimogakure where he got caught in a blizzard made him shiver. He would much rather spend his time on a hot beach, unhindered by layers of thick clothes and worries of frostbite. His sandal clad toes were starting to look a little grey-white as he swung his stiff legs back on to the safety of the metal ridge and hopped back through the window.

He slowly meandered back down to his quarters, in no rush and still feeling a little buzzed. He hoped that would help him get a good night's sleep. He thought of tomorrow, hoping desperately that his partner wouldn't remember anything. Although, even if the Uchiha did recall what a fool he had been, Kisame doubted that he would acknowledge it. He also had no plans of talking about it with anyone, especially not Itachi. The best course of action was to just pretend it never happened.

Kisame opened the door to his room and discarded his large damp cloak on his desk chair. The furnishings were sparse, mostly because he didn't generally spend too long in this hideout and didn't have too many worldly possessions that he cared to keep. There were a few books piled on the desk and a few changes of clothes hanging in the closet, but other than that it was bare. Samehada sat dejected against the wall beside his too short bed. He instantly felt bad that he left him alone all day. He picked up the huge, fearsome sword. "Sorry buddy," he said, "You'll never believe the day I've had..." Samehada pulsed chakra weakly in response, but mostly ignored him. Kisame frowned, put the sword back down, stripped off the rest of his clothes and crawled under the thick covers. He fell into a deep sleep immediately, snoring like a chainsaw.

\----

Sakura too was getting ready to sleep. After downing a small, bland meal brought to her by some unnamed shinobi, she inspected the bathroom thinking how nice it would be to have a hot shower.

The bathroom... was not very nice. Grungy tiles lined the wall of the shower stall on the left side of the small room, the glass sliding door scraped along rusty rails littering reddish-brown flakes on the slimy floor. A suspicious toilet and an equally grungy sink sat on the opposite wall. Sakura did her best to avoid the mirror over the skin, sure that she looked as gross as she felt. She wrinkled her nose. The bathroom had the same disinfected smell as the rest of the lab, but with an underlying scent of stagnate water. Happily there were two fresh-ish looking towels hanging on the wall, a bar of unopened soap, a teeny bottle of shampoo, a new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. She couldn't say the Akatsuki were horrible hosts, if you overlooked the whole forcible confinement thing. There was also a cabinet under the sink, but it held nothing of interest except a spotty water glass and a few extra rolls of toilet paper.

She grabbed the clean shirt and pants from her bed and shut herself in the bathroom. After a thorough inspection for hidden cameras, she turned the shower on to hot and jumped in. She revelled in the steamy shower, happy to be doing something somewhat normal. 'I'd rather be miserable and clean than just miserable,' She mused, relishing the feeling of washing her hair after what felt like a few days without.

After half an hour of the water slowly dropping in temperature, Sakura grabbed a towel and dried herself off. She dressed in the plain black pants and long sleeved black shirt, surprised it fit her so well. Once she finished brushing her teeth, she wondered what she should do next; she wasn't tired anymore. The medic nin exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her wet hair and retrieved a blank notebook and the two yellow folders on Itachi, scowling at the picture that was papercliped to the cover. Wondering over to her new bed, she sat down and dove in.

Once she got past the loathing, she was really quite fascinated. She doubted anyone outside the Uchiha clan had ever had access to this much information on the Sharingan. Konan was right after all, the medic before her really didn't have a firm grasp on what they were doing. Most of their hand written notes ended in question marks and they revealed no advance in understanding of what was causing the degeneration or how to heal it. Without the patient to examine, there wasn't much for her to do with the limited information. Still she recorded some theories and notes of her own in her notebook. Looking around the room at the equipment she had at her disposal, she decided on which tests she would perform first.

Obviously she would have to complete her own basic eye exam to set a new baseline. The notes from the previous medic were almost a year old, and who knows how much more damage he had sustained since then. It probably wouldn't be as simple as macular degeneration or cataracts, but it would at least be a starting point and a way to measure progress. 'Am I really doing this?' She wondered to herself, pausing in her theorizing. What else was she going to? She tried to rationalize this as gathering intel. The more they knew about Akatsuki the better, and if she could heal the Sharingan she could surely reverse her work. It was a brittle justification for her own selfish goals.

Frustrated with the situation she dropped the folders on the floor and jumped to her feet. She didn't get a chance to inspect the lab when she arrived. The room itself was a wide rectangle that had the feel of a morgue more than a medical labratory. Cold white tiles covered the floor, shinning in the florescent lighting. By the entrance to the left was the filing cabinet, a chair and the large desk. Piled on its surface was a multitude of notebooks and medical reference textbooks, spanning everything from basic anatomy to advanced medical procedure techniques and even a few tomes on kekkei genkai. She picked up the closest and flipped to the chapter on the Sharingan, but it gave her no new insight.

Along the wall closest to the desk was a long metal counter that held microscopes, beakers, erlenmeyer flasks and the like to mix solutes and other equipment to synthesize medicine. Above that was a locked glass case full of different herbs and ingredients, all labelled with a neat hand. Some of them were very rare and expensive items that were hard to come by in Konoha, others were illegal and highly toxic. She could see the more lethal ingredients were locked in a separate case, probably to prevent her using them on Itachi or herself.

In the middle of the room was a myriad of diagnostic machines, among them was an ultrasound machine, a ventilator, basic vital sign monitors, an anesthetic machine, and some odds and ends for manual surgery centered around a hydraulic surgical table. Huge operating lights were positioned over the table, ready and waiting for someone to go under the knife. There was even a dialysis machine tucked into the back. On the far right of the room was an examination table with a fresh sheet of paper covering its vinyl cushions and a rolling stool. Everything looked a bit dusty.

Sakura looked longingly at the door, wishing that she could just leave. Konan had explained to her that it would be lock and guarded at all times. Above it she realized there was a large faced clock. Far later than she thought it was, she decided to at least try to get some sleep. She dropped the soggy towel on the grownd, turned off the light switch by her bed and lied down on the stiff mattress. Damp hair stuck to her face and her pillow, but soon she was fast asleep.

\----

Konan leaned against the doorway of Pein's office, watching him work, a mug of coffee in hand. She could see the tension resting in his shoulders and in his face. She quietly walked around behind his desk and set the mug beside him. Pein looked up at her, stern face softening and the barest smile formed on his lips. He put down his pen.

"How did it go?" Pein asked, his voice tired and husky. She smiled back at him and sat on the edge of his desk, placing her hand on top of his absentmindedly. Their fingers intertwined, like they had done a thousand times before.

"She accepted. You were right to offer the information on Sasuke." The Akatsuki leader let out a breath and leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed; satisfied that something had gone right that day. "I overestimated her loyalty. Or perhaps I underestimated her love for that boy." She squeezed his hand, he squeezed back. Pein's face seemed so serine, it reminded her of how Yahiko used to look as a child. Her smile dampened by a fraction, nostalgia touching her face. When he opened his eyes Yahiko was gone and he was Pein again. "You work too hard." She remarked, releasing his hand and resting hers on his cheek. She knew he would never slow down, but it felt like it was important to say. He leaned into her touch and gave her a real smile.

"I know," was all he said. 'There's still so much to do.' Konan stood up and padded towards the door. He picked up his coffee and took a deep sip, watching her as she walked away. He looked back down at the documents, scribbling more notes in the margin and marked a few targets on a map. Konan paused at the door and peered at him once again.

"Come to bed soon, you need to rest." She continued down the hall toward their bed chamber. He smiled down at his papers. What would he do without her? He followed soon after, once the documents he was working on were in order. Konan was already asleep curled up in bed, her soft blue hair free from its usual bun and the makeup washed from her face. Pein quietly slipped in beside her, but did not sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of poly Yahiko/Konan/Nagato feels okay. uwu
> 
> Also, thank you for sticking around to read the second chapter, I think this was was so much better than the first. I promise the story only gets better from here.


End file.
